See Jane Dance or The Secret Life of S MacKenzie
by JAGNikJen
Summary: Sarah MacKenzie has been harboring a secret all these years Just a bit of fluffiness.


Disclaimer: I do not own JAG, Sarah MacKenzie, Harmon Rabb, et al. I am making no money off this endeavor. All I've earned is the pleasure of the writing and the possibility of some nice feedback.

AN: The songs used/referenced in this story are:

Song: See Jane Dance by Brooks and Dunn

Song: In the Air Tonight by Phil Collins

Song: Black Velvet by Alannah Miles

AN2: Current storyline takes place sometime during season seven…

~*~

**See Jane Dance or The Secret Life of Sarah MacKenzie**

Late fall 2001

2013 Zulu (1713 EST)

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Commander Sturgis Turner knocked on the door of his buddy's office and stuck his head in. "Hey, Harm."

"C'mon in, Sturgis," Commander Harmon Rabb invited. "What's up?"

"What are you doing tonight," Sturgis asked, taking a seat in one of Harm's visitor's chairs. "Got a hot date with Renee?"

"As a matter of fact, I'm a free agent," Harm replied, with a rueful smile. "Renee and I, ah, well, you know..."

A large smile split Sturgis's face.

"What have you got in mind?" Harm asked, remembering their hijinks during their days in the Academy.

"Have you ever been to the _Kit Kat Club_ over in Annapolis? I've got a buddy over in BUPERS who told me about this dancer," Sturgis said. "Says she's hotter than the Sahara Desert in July. They call her Jungle Jane...she wears this little leopard skin skirt."

"Sounds interesting, Sturgis, but I haven't done anything like this in years," Harm said. He wasn't sure if he wanted to do anything like this now. He was a grown man, not some randy young pilot.

"Oh, c'mon, Harm. Don't be such a stick in the mud. It'll be like old times." Sturgis sat forward and clasped his hands between his knees. "Besides, she's only there once a month or so."

Harm and Sturgis had had a lot of fun back in the day. Of course, they got into a fair amount of trouble, too. But Harm was a lot older now; staying out of trouble should be a lot easier. He looked at Sturgis and nodded, returning his friend's grin.

"I'll pick you up about nineteen hundred. It'll take about ninety minutes to get there, and Jungle Jane should be on about twenty-two hundred," Sturgis said as he rose to leave.

¯It started with a dare at a bar in Sarasota

¯A spring break party, miles from Minnesota

¯Jane was with her friends to mark a celebration

¯Phi Beta Kappa for her college graduation

¯A little pomp and circumstance

¯See Jane dance

April 1986

0237 Zulu (2137 EST)

The Gator Club

Sarasota, Florida

"What'll you ladies have" asked the scantily clad male waiter, looking around the table at Sarah and her friends. She couldn't believe the guy agreed to wear that get-up.

"I'll have a rum and coke," said Heather, the bleach blonde.

"Screwdriver," Melanie replied, the resident red head.

"Michelob in the bottle, please," requested Nancy, the other blonde and Sarah's roommate.

"I'll have what she's having." Karen pointed at Heather.

"And what about you" the waiter asked, looking at Sarah.

"Tonic water with a twist of lime, please," she said.

The waiter raised his eyebrow at her, but she just returned his gaze steadily.

"Designated driver?" he asked. With a wink and a quick smile, he left to fill their order.

"Can you believe we're finally graduating?" Nancy asked, grabbing Sarah and Karen's hands.

"Well, speak for yourself," Melanie said. "Heather and I still have a year to go. I'm sure going to miss you guys, though."

"What are your plans now, Sarah?" asked Heather, a relative newcomer to their small group.

"Sarah's in the Marines," Nancy said. "She'll be going to Officer Candidate School after she graduates."

"Oh, my god, you're kidding—a Marine?" Heather was apparently flabbergasted.

Sarah smiled and nodded. Very few people who knew her now, or knew her from her high school days, would ever believe it. Those who knew her now thought she was a shy quiet thing, and those who knew her way back when would never consider the wild child of Holbrook County a candidate for the Corps.

The evening wore on with lots of chatter and lots of drinking, at least by everyone else. A bar wasn't necessarily the best place for her to be, but she lived in the real world, and if she couldn't handle being in a bar, she really had no business in the Corps.

At least she'd finally lost her craving for alcohol. Her stint through basic training had helped tremendously, as did her Uncle Matt and regular AA meetings. She could hardly wait to get back to the Marine Corps, though. She smiled to herself—there'd been a point in her life when she never would have expected to think that.

"Attention ladies!"

Sarah glanced up at the speaker in the ceiling.

"Sign up now for the dance contest, and you could win an all-expenses paid trip to Paris, France!"

The club erupted with clapping and cheers.

"Oh, I've always wanted to go to Paris," said Melanie.

"Me, too," said Karen.

Heather, Karen, Melanie, and Nancy all glanced back and forth between one another.

"Do you think we should?" asked Heather with a giggle.

"Why not?" Nancy asked with a shrug. She was the least drunk.

Sarah sipped her tonic water as the four of them debated the finer points of dancing and on whether or not they should enter the contest.

"What about you, Sharah?" asked a smashed Heather. "You gonna dansh?"

Sarah smiled at her friend. She wouldn't mind a trip to Paris, either. "Sure, why not."

Although she was stone cold sober, her friends were not, and it was doubtful that they would remember very much about tonight. At least, she hoped they wouldn't. As for the rest of the bar, they were mostly drunk, too, and she'd be back in Minnesota by dinnertime tomorrow. They'd never see or hear of Sarah MacKenzie again.

"Oh, my gosh!" Heather shrieked, causing the other three women to look at her. "Sharah's gonna dansh."

¯The bouncer led the ladies to an open-air cabana

¯A sea of Coppertones and Hawaiian Tropicanas

¯A slew of southern beauties were causin' a commotion

¯Oilin' up their skin to win a trip across the ocean

¯Jane had never been to France

¯See Jane dance

Sarah followed her friends to sign up for the contest. After they'd shown proof of ID and age, another practically naked waiter led them backstage. The room was full of busty blondes blessed with year round tans, except for Sarah. Fortunately, her heritage allowed her the compensation of perpetually bronzed skin without ever having to go outside and work at it. Her dark hair and dark eyes were in major contrast to the bevy of pale haired women all around her, which she hoped would be in her favor.

Nancy, Heather, Melanie, and Karen all took their turns. Several other women were in line ahead of Sarah, and she used the time to formulate her dance. One by one, the women ahead of her went on stage. She listened to the applause to determine what types of moves the audience responded to most.

As her turn neared, she swallowed down the butterflies that were taking flight in her stomach. Should she really be doing this? What impact could it have on her career? Was it one she was willing to take...?

"Ladies and gentlemen! All the way from Red Rock Mesa, Arizona…please welcome…JUNGLE JANE!"

Too late—the audience erupted in whistles, catcalls, and loud clapping.

Sarah took a deep breath and waited...

As the deep opening notes of Phil Collins's hit song "In the Air Tonight" began to echo throughout the bar, the audience quieted. With a deep breath, Sarah stepped confidently up onto the stage and out from behind the curtain.

She strode slowly toward the edge of the stage, rocking her hips deliberately from side to side, her short leather skirt showcasing her long legs, her stiletto heels adding to the illusion.

The whistles started up again and increased as she gyrated seductively back and forth across the stage in time to the hypnotic beat. Her hands fluttered all around her breasts and hips, inviting more whistles and applause.

Releasing the buttons of her blouse and throwing it open, she tossed her head back and forth in sync with the drum solo. The crowd erupted in more applause. She allowed her shirt to slip down her arms and onto the floor, leaving her leopard-print-encased-breasts bouncing enticingly as she sustained her musical seduction.

Turning her back to the audience, she ran her hands down her bottom and past her thighs until she was looking at the crowd upside down through her spread legs.

As she slowly eased back to a standing position, she found the zipper of her skirt and unzipped it, allowing her skirt to drop around her feet once she was fully upright. The crowd went wild at sight of her well-rounded bottom in her leopard underpants. As the last eerie strains of the music faded out, Sarah stood, out of breath, breasts heaving in their minuscule covering, absorbing the heady applause.

She fought the grin that threatened the sultry pout she projected. This was power and better than alcohol. As the last strains of the music faded, she reached down and gracefully snatched up her discarded clothing and then disappeared back behind the curtain.

¯ She jumped up on the stage and after many margaritas

¯ She took her place in line amongst the tanned senioritas

¯ She tore into a groove and lost her inhibition

¯ Stirrin' up the crowd, she blew away the competition

¯ In her leopard underpants

¯ See Jane dance

Gasping for breath and fighting a smile, Sarah followed a bouncer to a small dressing room.

The bouncer opened the door for her. "That's for you," he said, indicating a small tray with a bottle of water and several cans of soda. "You have about ten minutes before we need the room back."

She nodded. "Thanks."

The bouncer pulled the door shut behind him.

It was cool and quiet in the small room and Sarah walked over to the full-length mirror.

She looked damn good. She had full breasts, but not too full, and she was always careful to buy bras that fit right. She hated those little breast bulges over the edges of her bra cups. Her boy-short underpants flattered her figure, and black lace was always in fashion. Her belly was flat, and her legs and arms were trim. Yet another benefit of Marine Corps training. She grabbed the bottled water and gulped it down and quickly donned her clothing.

Her friends' eyes all lit up when she slid into her seat.

"Oh, my heavens, Sarah..." Nancy gushed. "You were amazing."

"You must have done this before," Karen said.

Heat rushed up Sarah's face, but she shook her head. "Thank you, but no. I've never done anything like this before. And never will again. This was just one of those 'what happens in Vegas' kinds of things."

They sat through five more acts, most of them not very good as the women were all in various stages of intoxication and not very steady on their feet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, The Gator Club is happy to announce that the winner of the dance contest and the all expense paid trip to Paris, France is Sarah MacKenzie…"

Her friends all shrieked and laughed and hugged her.

Sarah was stunned. She'd won. Against the tanned, blonde Florida natives. And she was going to France.

~*~

Present Day

0242 Zulu (2142 EDT)

Kit Kat Club

Annapolis, Maryland

"Glad you came, Harm?" Sturgis asked, watching the well-endowed redhead on the stage do her thing.

"Well, I'll tell you after Jungle Jane." Harm flashed a fake smile at his long-time buddy. This wasn't the experience he remembered. Is this what happened as you matured? He looked around the club...okay, not necessarily. There were plenty of men his age, all seeming to enjoy the show.

And it wasn't that he didn't enjoy the sight of a beautiful woman, because he did. It must be the atmosphere. He'd much rather enjoy the sight of a beautiful woman on a more personal level—not in a public venue with a bunch of other men.

The feel of Mac in his arms, her lips under his, at her engagement party all those months ago flashed through his brain. Realization struck. She was the one beautiful woman he had any desire to see. Some days, though, it seemed like they were never going to fix what was broken between them.

So far, he and Mac hadn't had a good opportunity to finally sit and have the talk they promised each other the day Brumby left her. And they continually sniped at each other over stupid stuff. Harm was getting tired of it. They were going to have that conversation—and soon.

"Harm…hey, Harm…you in there?" Sturgis waved his hand in front of Harm's face.

"Huh Yeah…what?" Harm shook his head to clear the vision of Mac.

"Where were you? Did you hear anything I said?" Sturgis asked. "What were you thinking about…or should I ask _who_ were you thinking about?"

"Nobody…" Harm said, shaking his head. Sturgis didn't need to know.

"Yes, you were. Let me guess...it wouldn't have been a certain lieutenant colonel that we both know and love, would it?" Sturgis asked, laughing.

"Now, why would I be thinking about Mac?" Harm asked, schooling his features. He had a pretty good poker face, but he and Sturgis had been friends a long time.

"Oh, come on…I've seen the way you look at her when she's not looking," Sturgis said.

"Well, she's a beautiful woman," Harm replied, spearing Sturgis with a look that dared the other man to continue.

"Whatever you say, buddy," Sturgis said with a grin, slapping Harm on the shoulder.

"Evening, Sirs," Bud said when he walked up and then took a seat.

"Glad you could make it, Bud," Sturgis welcomed the younger man. "But for tonight it's Sturgis, okay?"

"Bud, what are you doing here?" Harm asked. This was not the type of place he'd ever expect Bud to frequent, the younger man's own bachelor party aside.

"Well, Sir―"

"_Bud_." Harm gave him a look. "Sturgis is right. Tonight we're friends, brothers in arms, if you will."

Bud nodded. "Well, Harm, Comm―Sturgis invited me to come out with you guys," Bud replied. "And Harriet thought it was a great idea. Of course, she doesn't know where I am. Let's hope she doesn't need to call me." A slight flush tinged Bud's round face.

Sturgis flagged down the waitress and ordered beers for the three of them. The lights dimmed and a voiced announced…

"Here she is, gentlemen, after several months away...all the way from Minneapolis-St. Paul...Jungle Jane!"

Harm's eyes snapped to the stage even though there was nothing but a curtain, at the moment. Jungle Jane? Where had he heard that name before?

"You made it just in time, Bud," Sturgis said with a grin. He settled back in his seat and turned his gaze to the stage.

The crowd erupted in catcalls and whistles. Evidently, the other patrons were familiar with Jane's act. Harm and Bud clapped politely, while Sturgis let out an enthusiastic whistle. The hypnotic rhythm of the drums began and the curtain rose in time to the beat.

Feet in spiked heels gave way to shapely calves. The rising velvet continued to expose impossibly long legs. The rounded hips, swathed in a silky leopard print, supported a bare midriff. Harm held his breath as Jane's barely covered breasts were revealed.

Harm's breath hitched, and an uneasy feeling prickled on the back of his neck. Why did she feel the need to perform like this? Surely, she could find less exploitive ways of making money.

But, oh man, she was pretty hot—at least, her body was... He'd seen quite a few 'performers' whose faces didn't quite match their bodies. Harm picked up his beer, and prepared to take a swig.

The curtain passed her neck and finally revealed Jane's face. The dark, sultry eyes and the tanned complexion were surrounded by long, dark hair.

Harm's eyes narrowed as the woman stepped forward on the stage and began her number.

Sarah MacKenzie wiggled and swayed in time to the music. She watched the audience as they quieted and became fixated on her movements. Movements that hadn't changed all that much in the twenty years she'd been doing this. Men didn't evolve much when it came to eroticism.

Glancing at the men, she tried to make eye contact, but most men's gazes locked onto her breasts and remained there. She'd seen all types succumb to the lure of her breasts; businessmen in suits, blue-collar guys in hard hats and steel-toed boots, and everything in between.

She slid her gaze to the next table, and her breath caught, but other than that, she'd learned not to falter in her routine. She smiled at Sturgis and batted her lashes.

He grinned in return, lifting his bottle in appreciation, not appearing to recognize her at all. Whew. Bud was looking at her feet, and Mac suppressed the urge to giggle. Sweet, Bud.

Mac had seen the third man in the periphery of her vision when she had looked at Sturgis and Bud. It could only be Harm.

She looked at him, his eyes locking like radar onto hers. Oh, heavens...

She blew him a kiss and turned away in time with the music.

Harm sputtered the swig of beer he'd just taken.

Sturgis and Bud whipped their heads around quickly to look at him.

"Sir, are you all right?" Bud asked, leaning over to pound Harm on the back.

Harm glanced from one to other. "That's...that's..." They both looked at Harm with interest.

"That's who, Harm?" Bud asked innocently. "Do you know her?"

"I, ah...no. I don't know her, although I actually think I've seen her dance before. A very long time ago." Harm scratched his head. Florida. During his time at Pensacola. His mind was reeling. Could that possibly have been Sarah MacKenzie all those years ago? It was wild and crazy and...no. She'd attended school in..._Minneapolis-St. Paul_. Oh, holy hell. "I gotta go. Bud, can you give me ride?" Harm asked.

Concern wrinkled Sturgis's forehead. "What's wrong, Harm? I can give you a lift. I just wanted to see Jungle Jane. She's as hot as my buddy said she would be. What did you think of her?"

Sturgis was having way too much fun with this. Harm had to get out of there, and there was no way he was sitting through ninety minutes of Sturgis going on about _Jane's_ considerable attributes.

"Bud?" Harm asked, more forcefully than he intended.

"Sure, Sir," Bud answered. He rose and pulled his keys out of his pocket.

Harm thought quickly. Oh, yeah. "Thanks, anyway, Sturgis, but I have some things I need to go over with Bud on the Martinson case. Let's go, Bud."

Thirty minutes into the drive, Bud finally ventured to speak. "Sir, you didn't really want to talk about Martinson, did you?"

Harm shook his head. "No, Bud. You're doing fine. I just, uh...these types of places aren't really my thing anymore, and I didn't want to have to talk about it all the way back to D.C. with Sturgis."

"I understand, Sir. Harriet won't be very pleased when she hears about where we went."

Harm sighed. He and Mac really needed to have that talk now...for the rest of the drive, Harm kept Bud busy bragging about his boys.

They pulled up in front of Harm's apartment.

"There you go, Sir," said Bud.

Harm slid out of the car and leaned in the open doorway. "I really appreciate the ride, Bud. Lunch is on me tomorrow."

"That's not necessary, Sir," Bud replied.

"_Bud..._"

Bud nodded. "Thanks, Harm."

Harm slammed the door and Bud drove off.

~*~

Harm sauntered through the bullpen, bright and early the following morning. Who said he wasn't an early bird? He caught Gunny's eye as he headed for his office, and with a jerk of his head, he indicated for the Marine to follow him.

A few moments later, Gunny poked his head into Harm's office. "How can I help you, Sir?"

"Have you seen the colonel this morning?" Harm asked.

"I believe she took a personal day, Sir," Gunny replied.

"Come on in and close the door."

Gunny did as he was bid.

"Could you do me a favor, Gunny?" Harm asked. "It's classified," he continued in a low voice.

"Of course, Sir. What do you need?"

"Can you research the colonel's leave time for say...the last six months?"

"Anything I should look for in particular?" Gunny asked.

Harm could see the other man was curious, but he was well trained and wouldn't ask.

"No. I just need a list of all the times she's taken leave and for how long. And, Gunny, this is a personal matter," Harm said.

Gunny's brow rose, but he didn't question the request. "Yes, Sir, I'll get right on it."

A few hours later, Gunny tapped on Harm's office door. He entered at Harm's bidding.

"Here's the information you requested, Sir," Gunny said, placing a small piece of paper on Harm's blotter. The list was hand written. "Didn't want to chance a paper trail, Sir."

"Thanks, Gunny. I owe you," Harm said, as he picked up the paper and scanned it. "Dismissed."

"Aye, Sir," Gunny said and left, closing Harm's door behind him.

Harm studied the dates. Mac had leave today, for one day. She had taken leave about five weeks ago, also for one day. She had taken a week of leave about eight days prior to that―that must have been when she went looking for the little girl in Indonesia.

Before that she had been out on the USS Guadalcanal for several months and there were no records yet at JAG of any official leave she might have had. Any time she might have taken off was probably unofficial, granted to her by Captain Huddleston. Mac couldn't have been anywhere near D.C. during that time.

Back in June, she had two weeks of leave scheduled for her honeymoon, which never happened, and she had only used about three days after Mic left. During the first week of May, she had taken one day, and then she had taken several days just prior to her lecture at Annapolis. She could have...

Harm grabbed the phone and dialed Mac's number.

"Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie," she answered on the third ring.

"Mac―it's Harm."

"Hey, Harm, what can I do for you today?" she asked pleasantly. No indication she'd been out late the night before.

"Can I come over tonight?" Harm asked without preamble. No sense in beating around the bush. He wanted that conversation.

"Yeah, sure," Mac replied. "Harm, are you all right? What's going on?"

"Mac, we need to talk. Can we do it tonight?" Harm asked. "I mean really talk."

"Okay...how about nineteen thirty," Mac said.

"See you then," Harm said and hung up.

~*~

0022 Zulu (1922 EDT)

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown

¯ Now she drives a Beamer that was bartered for a gig in Barcelona

¯ A Harley that was payment from the bikers in Daytona

¯ She's heavily invested, her stock is on the run

¯ Be worth a couple million by the time she's thirty-one

¯ So before you miss your chance

¯ See Jane dance

"Wow, you're early," Mac teased as she pulled the door open. "What's the occasion?"

She sobered. He looked upset.

"Mac―"

"Come in, Harm. Let's not have this conversation in the hall." She stepped back, allowing him to enter. "You want something to drink?"

"Iced tea would be great."

Mac nodded and headed for the kitchen. She tracked Harm's progress around her apartment by the sounds he made, but he went quiet.

Oh, no...

"Been investing?" he called.

_Shoot._ She grabbed the two glasses of sweet tea and hurried into the living room. "Harm―"

"My god, Mac, is this yours?" He held up an investment statement, looked at her with wide eyes.

Mac nodded and set the drinks on the coffee table.

"Where did you get so much money?" Harm asked, bewilderment in his voice and on his face.

"I've been investing since I went to OCS," she said. She tucked her hands into her back pockets and waited.

"Mac, lieutenants don't make the kind of money needed to get returns like this," Harm replied. "Two point three million dollars...?" His brows arced high over his blue eyes.

"Harm, I _can_ explain," she said. "Let's sit down."

"This better be good," he said.

"Excuse _me_? What is that supposed to mean?" Mac asked. She pointed a finger at him. "Now you listen here, Harmon Rabb―how dare you come into my home and snoop through my papers and expect me to explain my personal finances. You have no right to even―"

Surprise and worry flashed across his face, and he held up his hands. "Whoa! Mac―You're right, you're right. I'm sorry. This isn't the conversation I wanted to have." Harm turned away from her and scratched his head. "Mac, I―"

He walked over to the window and gazed out to the street below. "I don't know what to say to you. Time keeps passing and cases keep coming between us one way or another." Harm turned back around to look at her; searching her face, her eyes, but she wasn't sure what he was hoping to see.

He took a breath and said, "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you the night Brumby left; that we couldn't have had it out when you came to me; I wanted to be there for you, but Renee..."

"I know, Harm. It's okay," she said, her voice gentle. "She's your girlfriend and she needed you."

"Was. _Was_ my girlfriend."

_Oh_. Mac nodded. Interesting. "Well, I was just the good friend and outranked by the girlfriend. Maybe it was better that way. If she hadn't have been there, what really would have happened?"

"We would have talked and gotten things worked out," Harm replied, with a shrug. "And you're more than just a good friend."

Men thought things were so easy and uncomplicated, sometimes. Mac shook her head and closed the gap between them. "No, Harm," she denied, speaking softly. "We would have ended up sleeping together."

"No, we wouldn't have," Harm disagreed.

Mac cocked her head and gave him a look. "Really?"

Harm cleared his throat. "Okay, so what if we had? Would that have been so bad?"

"Yes," she said.

"What―Why" he asked, hurt.

"Because, Harm, you would have been cheating on your girlfriend, and I would have been going somewhere I had no business being. There was no way I was ready to be with you like that," she explained, "no matter how much I might have wanted to."

"Renee broke up with me," Harm admitted. "Her old flame, Cyrus, proposed after I came back from Minnesota, and she accepted."

Wow.... "Harm, I'm really sor―"

Harm shook his head. "Don't apologize. I wasn't really upset about it." He turned away for a moment. "Oh, my pride was wounded." He snorted then and continued, "In fact, I kind of expected it after I saw them get reacquainted."

He threw her a rueful grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. He was still hurt, even if he denied it.

"The only part I regretted was that I didn't break it off first. Remember out on the Guadalcanal, you asked me if I was willing to give her up to have you?"

Mac nodded. Oh, yeah, she remembered. His lengthy silence had spoken volumes at the time. She'd thought—

Harm continued, "I was willing and ready, and I said as much, but you had already left the room and were halfway down the passageway before I caught up with you."

Mac smiled. She remembered Harm coming around the corner only to find Gunny with her. She knew Gunny knew the score between her and Harm. He had a grin on his face that said as much. But she was glad Gunny had been there to stall whatever Harm had been planning on saying, even if he was going to tell her that he was willing to give Renee up for her. That was the beautiful thing about hindsight. Looking back over the last few months, and despite the way things had been between her and Harm, she knew that things were working out just the way they should.

"Harm, I'm glad you told me about Renee," Mac said. "Both that you were willing to give her up for me, and that she was the one who broke up with you. I wasn't really ready for you back on the Guadalcanal. I still had to work things out in my head." Mac tapped lightly on her temple. "You know, deal with what happened, grieve, and begin to move forward...on my own power, making my own decisions. When I traded my ring for Corporal Lassiter, it was as much for closure for me as it was being able to bring a fellow Marine home. Despite the fact that he wasn't worth it as a man, he was worth it as a Marine."

"Now what, Mac?"

"About the money, Harm," Mac said.

"I'm sorry about the way I acted earlier, and I know it's none of my business, but millions, Mac?" He ran a hand through his hair. "How did you...?"

She reached out her hand, wiggling her fingers. "I'd like to tell you. I know you saw me the other night."

Harm blinked and then nodded and took her hand. She led him to the sofa.

"And I knew it was you. What were you doing there, anyway? That doesn't really seem like your thing."

Harm rolled his eyes. "Oh, Sturgis asked me to go, and Bud, too, although I didn't know Bud was going to be there," Harm said. "Sturgis said he'd heard about this dancer, how hot she was, and that she was only there every so often. I remembered some of the things Sturgis and I did while we were in the Academy and thought it might be fun."

"Bud and Sturgis didn't recognize me, did they?" Mac asked, blushing prettily. "I'm pretty sure Bud didn't."

"No, Bud was looking at anything but the women on stage. I don't think Sturgis recognized you, or he would have said something, I'm sure."

Mac nodded. Poor Bud would probably have apoplexy if he knew.

"I might not have recognized you, either, I hadn't just been thinking about you, but your face was so fresh in my memory that it just clicked instantly." Harm chuckled. "I spit my beer out all over the table when I realized it was you. That distracted them. Sturgis thought I was nuts. Bud probably thought so, too. I asked Bud to give me a ride home even though I had come with Sturgis. I knew Bud wouldn't give me the third degree all the way home."

"You were thinking about me?" Mac asked. "What were you thinking about?" This was the real crux of the conversation. Not that she danced in front of men for money, but that there was something between them and it needed to be aired, discussed, decided, explored.

"I was thinking of that night on the admiral's porch. How you felt in my arms, how soft your lips were, how sweet your breath was, how much I wanted you that night…" Harm looked deep into her eyes. "How much I want you now." Harm leaned in and placed a tentative kiss to her lips. Expectation hung heavy in the air.

Luckily, she was ready now. Finally. She slid her hands up his chest and around his neck, pulling him closer, and inviting him to deepen the kiss.

His arms went around her back and pressed her closer. She ended the kiss and rested her forehead against his.

"Better than I remember," Harm whispered and Mac nodded in agreement. "Mac, what now? I'm betting you won't let me take you bed right now, as certain as I am that you want me to."

Mac stepped away. "You're right, Harm. I want to make love with you so bad my teeth hurt, but now is not the right time for that. We still have some talking to do." She curled up on her end of the sofa. "Sit, and I'll tell you about the money."

"You really don't have to," Harm said.

She smiled. "I know. But I want to. It all started back in April 1986. I found out that I was graduating Phi Beta Kappa right before spring break. My friends suggested we go to Florida to celebrate as Minnesota had had its coldest winter in quite some time and the snow was still lingering in the shadows. They wanted to go somewhere warm and sunny. I was just along for the ride since, as you well know, I gave up drinking. I was the resident designated driver.

"Anyway, I won a trip. I couldn't believe it, but I couldn't go right away since I was starting OCS soon. Luckily, the company that sponsored the trip understood my situation and held it for me until I could get my first lengthy leave."

"I saw you that night."

"What?"

Harm nodded. "I was at Pensacola in 1986. Some fellow pilots and I headed for Sarasota. We knew it was spring break. They—we were hoping for a little action..." A flush tinted his cheeks. "If you know what I mean."

"That's really incredible, Harm..."

"It is, isn't it?"

She nodded, and then continued. Time passed without either of them realizing it, Mac continued her story, telling Harm about going to Italy after she graduated from OCS and the BMW she earned from the gigs she did there.

"I also had a top of the line Harley Davidson motorcycle from the bikers in Daytona. I went there right after my stint in Bosnia. I was so affected by what I saw in Bosnia that when I came back, I went really wild in my dancing career. That's when I earned the most money. As a Marine, I had very little need of it and, of course, couldn't have explained where it had come from so easily, so I just invested it. Just before I got assigned to JAG HQ, I sold the BMW and the Harley. You can imagine how much money they were worth."

"Who else knows about this?" Harm asked.

"Believe it or not, very few people." She looked at Harm. "You, me, John Farrow, and...the admiral. Possibly Webb."

"The admiral knows about this?" Harm shook his head. "Has he ever seen your act?"

"Well, if he has, he's never mentioned it." She shrugged. She didn't really think about it. She wasn't really ashamed, but imagining the admiral in an establishment such as the ones she danced in didn't really work for her.

"Oh, my...geez, Mac."

"I got to a point at JAG where I felt the admiral should know, just in case. I didn't want it to come back and bite me in the six, figuratively speaking, of course." Mac winked at him. "I'm sure Clay knows, although he's never said anything or even hinted that he has an inkling."

"This just keeps getting worse," Harm replied, rubbing his eyes.

"Are you ashamed to know me because I'm an exotic dancer? Are you ashamed to have me for a girlfriend now?" What the hell? He had a lot of nerve.

"Downshift, Marine. I really know how to put my foot in my mouth don't I...and push your buttons at the same time," Harm said. "That's not what I meant—all I meant is that the admiral and Webb may know what you look like without clothes and I..."

"Yes?"

"Mac…"

"Go on, Harm. You what?" Mac crossed her arms over her chest. He really was cute when he was abashed.

"And I don't. And guys don't really like it when other men know what their women look like without clothes on," Harm reasoned.

"Since when did I become your woman?" Mac asked, her brows rising into her hairline. They could barely have a conversation about a relationship, but somehow she was now his woman?

"Dammit, Mac! You have a beautiful body―the perfect body," Harm confessed. "I dream about it, and I wake up..."

_Oh..._ "You wake up what?" Butterflies took flight in her stomach.

Harm jumped up from the sofa. "I'd better go; look at the time."

"Uh, uh...you wanted this conversation. You're not running away now. Sit."

"Mac, you just told me we're not going to end up in bed together, at least not tonight," Harm replied. "Your mouth is telling me one thing and your eyes are telling me another. But you're right, we still have a lot to work through, so before we forget our good intentions, then I'd better go."

Mac nodded, disappointment filling her. He was right. If he stayed much longer, then one thing would lead to another. "Okay, Harm." She stood up to walk him to the door. "I'll see you Monday."

He stopped right in front of her, gazing down at her. "Bye, Mac," he leaned in and kissed her. Not frenchy by any stretch of the imagination, but heady all the same. "See you later. Oh, by the way…I wake up all hot and bothered." He winked at her and disappeared down the hall.

Mac groaned as she closed the door. Visions of a hot and bothered Harm filled her mind. What was she thinking anyway? More talk...who was she kidding?

~*~

Three weeks later

¯ Yeah, she'll put ya in a trance

¯ See Jane dance

¯ Dance

¯ Dance

"Let's celebrate," Harm remarked as he and Mac left the courtroom. The murder trial they had been co-counsel on had finally wrapped up.

"Sounds good," she replied. "Why don't you come over around eight, and we can decide what to do."

They had spent many evenings together over the last two weeks, going over their case, and in between, getting to know one another again. Mac was ready, and she had a surprise for Harm.

Mac opened the door for Harm precisely at twenty-oh-six. "You're late, Harm," she said with a smile. "The show starts at twenty-one hundred sharp."

"What show?" Harm asked. "I thought we were going to decide together."

"I'll tell you what..." She nudged him toward the table. "Let's eat, and after you see the show, you can decide if you want to be mad that I chose our celebratory activity. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed with a nod. "What's for dinner?"

"Mac's meatless meatloaf," she said, deadpan.

"Oh, no…please," Harm groaned. "What's in it?"

"I'm only kidding, Harm," she said as she went into the kitchen and brought back a casserole dish. "Lemon Risotto."

A half hour later, dinner was over and the kitchen was clean.

"When do we have to leave?" Harm asked, checking his watch. "It must not be far."

"No, it's not far," Mac said. "And we don't have to leave. Go sit down, and I'll be right back."

She turned off the kitchen light, the dining room light, and the overhead light in the living room. She lit a couple of hurricane lamps and several candles before switching off the table lamp.

"Are we watching a movie?" Harm asked, watching her bustle around.

"Nope," she said. "Just sit back and be patient," Mac said and disappeared into her room.

Harm could hear her moving around and the opening and closing of drawers. "Harm, can you start the CD? Just press play."

Harm got up and did as he was bid and returned to his spot on the couch. A few moments later the sultry strains of Alannah Miles's Black Velvet filled the room. His jaw dropped when Mac strode into the room in time to the beat.

The tight fitting, low cut, red jacket; black, knee-length, leather skirt; and red pumps set his blood racing. And what the heck was underneath the jacket, if anything? All he could see was skin. Surely, he was going to find out...

The slow, seductive movements of her body and the sultry need in her eyes mesmerized him. She twisted and twirled in front of him. Her hands fluttered all around her body as she delicately outlined her figure with her hands. Then she touched her finger to her shoulder and traced a path down across her body.

His breath hitched and he blinked when she slowly began to undo the few buttons that held the jacket together.

Turning her back to him, she thrust open her jacket, tossing her head to look at him over her shoulder. She slid the jacket down her back, revealing tanned skin and black straps. Twirling it with one hand, she let it fly across the room.

Rocking her hips back and forth, she undid her zipper and pushed the leather past the curve of her hips, allowing her skirt to puddle at her feet, her shapely bottom clad in black velvet. She turned back to Harm revealing her black velvet clad bosom, as well.

Harm sat there, sure that his tongue hung out with drool dripping into his lap. But he was powerless to do anything but stare. "Wow..." he whispered.

The song ended, the last notes fading into silence. Neither spoke for a few moments.

"Are you mad?" she finally asked, chest still heaving a bit from her performance.

"Mad?" He shook his head, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I picked tonight's entertainment...remember?"

"Oh...oh...no, I'm not mad," Harm said, still dazed. "How could I be mad when you...for me...wow..."

She smiled. "Yeah, you said that." She moved to sit next to him, their eyes locked. "Harm...?"

"Hmm?"

"Make love to me?"

He blinked.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

He swallowed. "No, nothing's wrong." He shook his head for emphasis. He leaned in and kissed her. Mac stood and pulled him up from the couch and led him to her room.

~ Fin ~


End file.
